


Bittersweet

by jewboykahl



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Partying, Sad boi hours, Short One Shot, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 02:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30132660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jewboykahl/pseuds/jewboykahl
Summary: As he held Stan closely and with a heavy heart, he wondered how loving someone could feel simultaneously completely devastating and absolutely amazing.
Relationships: Stan Marsh/Kenny McCormick
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	Bittersweet

Sweat streaked down Kenny’s forehead despite the freezing snowy, Colorado December. Practiced lips closed and parted around a cigarette as his hands remained cradled in the faux fur-lined pockets of his jean jacket. His legs cramped from holding his weight as he strolled along the icy pavement just after a shift at work, but the close proximity to his final destination brought him solace. He could already hear the pulsing of pop music. 

Once he made it to his close friend’s home, the blaring speakers became deafening, the sound of teenagers laughing and chatting and whooping only slightly breaking through. Kenny threw a grin to a few peers lingering by the front door as he entered the Cartman residence before making his way through the crowded space to find his friends. 

In the kitchen, he found the host of the party taking a turn bouncing a ping pong ball across the table, aiming for one of four red Solo cups of beer. Teenagers gathered on either side to witness the outcome of the competition through their drunken haze. Kenny was suddenly very aware of his sobriety when Cartman’s successful launch of the ball into a cup caused both positive and negative roars. 

“Yo, Kenny’s here!” Clyde cheered after glancing in his direction after a long sing of beer from the plastic cup, “I call dibs on having him on my partner next!” 

Cartman whirled around to address him. His different colored eyes were half-hooded with intoxication, and his dropping smile helped Kenny paint a picture of its severity. “Hey, poor boy, want next round?” 

“We’ll see how drunk I am by then,” Kenny snorted as he scanned the room, noticing a lack of someone he was looking forward to hanging out with, “Where’s Stan?” 

“Fuck if I know,” Cartman slurred before returning his attention to the game. 

Kenny bit a lip. He weighed his options before joining everyone in getting completely plastered and blissfully forgetting the characteristics of a responsible human, but he could not. 

Lately he had been worried about Stan. He had been going at it pretty hard with booze and had showed up to school either noticeably hungover or still a bit drunk from the night before nearly every day the past week. His friend was never one to cope well with issues, and he suspected that some underlying sadness was fueling his desire to punish his liver and disable his brain. 

Though the house was not big by any means, it took a while for Kenny to navigate the space in search of Stan. The extra bodies impeding clear paths and doorways slowed him down, but also allowed him to scan a sharp eye along the loose crowd for a hoodie-clad figure. He resolved to check upstairs with a burdened chest when his initial search came up empty. 

Kenny paced down the hall of the second floor toward the restroom, and braced himself to see naked classmates exploring one another. 

Instead he found who he was looking for wrapped around the toilet. 

“Stan,” Kenny addressed in a sigh. He took the final few steps toward him and slumped down beside him, a comforting hand instinctively finding the space between Stan’s shoulder blades. 

Stan turned his head weakly to find the source of the touch and sound; Kenny could see his eyes were bloodshot and accompanied by dark circles, and somehow still enticingly, breathtakingly blue. His heart rate rose as his stomach sank, and he smiled sadly as his friend’s sickly face. “Hey, Ken,” he greeed miserably.

“What happened here?” Kenny asked as Stan shifted to a seated position, back meeting the side of the wooden vanity behind him. 

“Got sick,” Stan informed simply, ungracefully pushing his greasy, dark bangs from his forehead. 

Kenny shrugged, “I see that. When did you start drinkin’?” 

“Hmm,” Stan groaned for a moment before mumbling his answer, “noon.” 

A powerful combination of sadness and concern enveloped Kenny. This was not the first time he had seen his friend in a bad way, but it was possibly the worst he had seen him. His skin was completely devoid of color other than the slightest green tinge. 

It was then he really understood that Stan had a problem. 

Kenny’s eyes widened when he watched his friend raise a balled fist to his mouth as his throat made a retching sound. “C’mere,” he coaxed Stan back to the porcelain bowl beside him. When the dark-haired boy obliged clumsily, he extended his neck over the toilet and retched some more. Morbid curiosity did not get the better of Kenny, as he merely looked away and gently rubbed Stan’s back as his body rejected bile. 

A minute or so later and Stan was still spitting, coughing, and throwing up. Kenny did not realize his eyes were watering until he flipped them down to Stan’s ghoulish profile. He lifted his free hand to gingerly push away the strands of black hair covering his eyes. Kenny had the fucked up thought that it was sort of an intimate moment between the pair. 

“We’re gonna get you right, Stan,” Kenny promised, pressing a kiss to the side of Stan’s skull. 

Stan leaned into him and breathed in a sniffling sigh. He allowed himself to be wrapped in Kenny’s embrace and close his tired eyes. 

As he held Stan closely and with a heavy heart, he wondered how loving someone could feel simultaneously completely devastating and absolutely amazing. 


End file.
